


Sabaism

by sara_no_h



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Episode: s01e01 A Study in Pink, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 01:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1247845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sara_no_h/pseuds/sara_no_h
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Definition: Sabaism (Noun)<br/>1.	The religion of the Sabians; Sabianism<br/>2.	worship of the sun, moon, and stars; heliolatry; astrolatry</p><p>A reflection after John shoots the cabbie in “A Study In Pink”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sabaism

John watched as a paramedic placed an obnoxious orange blanket over Sherlock’s shoulders.

He’s killed for that man.

Pulled the trigger without a thought to himself. He’d been blinded by that extraordinary and addicting detective. In that moment he knew what it was like to engage in sabaism, for he was here and Sherlock Holmes was in another galaxy entirely.

The sound of footfalls had still been ringing in his ears. The air had been heavy with his own labored breaths but his hand had been sure, unshaken and undeterred. He thought of sand and the thick iron of blood that coated the shifting granules of desert and the anomaly of how, if the light hit a portion of grit, it ignited, causing the finely divided rock and mineral particles to shine brighter than any sky on a moonless night.

He remembered the first time he saw that precious light. It was his first tour; his first month and he’d been hot, dripping with perspiration. He was still not used to the abrupt sound of gunfire nor was he used to the way the desert clung to him.

He was still innocent and had not seen firsthand the way a wall of lead destroyed a soldier.

It had been sudden, the first time, a play of light in his peripheral, but then he’d focused and saw the way the scorching sun reflected across the still surface. It had reminded him of light on a mirror but increased, unbound in nature. An unusual and wonderful sight that had taken his breath away.

In the present, he saw Sherlock talking to the Detective Inspector. He looked over and their eyes clashed.

It was more breathtaking than light from the Afghan desert. More clear than a cloudless day and shone more brilliant than when the light reflected off the microscopic rock and minerals of the Registan plains.

He never wanted to turn away.

He had to.

Stars were uncaring to mortals gaze and so would be this untouchable man that John Watson had just met.


End file.
